


The Sharing of a Story

by padfootprophet



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Oracle, But steals from a bunch of them, Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Doesn't fit into any canon, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Reading Harry Potter as a bonding activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22938361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfootprophet/pseuds/padfootprophet
Summary: Cass reads Harry Potter for the first time, at Barbara's suggestion. It turns out to be a family activity.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain & Everyone, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	The Sharing of a Story

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading Outsiders and this whole fic may have been an excuse to write about Cass and Duke wearing black and yellow and being best friends. Basically, nothing should be taken seriously, even if I did start taking it seriously mid-writing.  
> I also read Shadow of the Batgirl and it was very good and I stole some elements of that (mainly Cass' connection to the library) alongside whatever other canon I felt like including. DC keep making new canon so why can't I?

It starts, like most things in her life seem to, with Barbara Gordon. It also starts at the library. She's come forward in leaps and bounds from her first attempts at reading, scouring the shelves for something to help her make sense of life only to come up empty. It's because of Barbara's help of course, giving guidance in which books will help her grow in equal measure to guidance in which Gotham crooks she can take down, which citizen or bat Batgirl can help on any given night.

Cass chooses books haphazardly still, following the paths of people she observes, the way they act gently with a book they'd read and loved, private smiles they don't think anyone sees. She picks faded books from the walls she built around herself in her quiet seat by the upper floor window - no longer makeshift training dummies but a promise to herself to one day read each of them - but she looks for direction from Barbara as well.

So when Barbara holds out a book with a faded cover and well-worn pages and says, "Here, you should try this," she takes it. She knows it's special, not just from the break of its spine and the smudged fingerprints across the pages - signs it has been taken out and read again and again - but from the subtle smile that graces Barbara's face when she looks at it, the same one Cass has seen on the faces of people who gently trace fingertips over a books spine in a way that speaks of love.

She carries the book back to her spot, curls up on the window seat, its blue faded by the same sunlight that streams through the windows behind her now, and begins to read about The Boy Who Lived.

It isn't always easy, and she stumbles over some words and carefully copies them to her sketchbook, carrying the rumpled pages to the computer Oracle uses to index crime statistics to seek them out in databases, fingers skimming over the familiar keyboard with its heavy clack of keys. She comes up empty often enough that she goes back to Barbara, whose eyes sparkle with hidden laughter as she explains that the words don't exist outside of the world of the book.

Cass decides maybe it's a test, because Barbara is ever a scientist, and it's about how she reacts - the same way it was the first time she went out alone as Batgirl, and returned to the Clock Tower to find Barbara had been watching her anyway to see how she responded to the threats the criminals posed her. Not that she considers reading to be a threat, at least not anymore, but she assumes Barbara is testing her reaction anyway, and she wants to succeed.

So she goes in search of the biggest reader she knows, someone who likes books more than Barbara, or at least has more - worn stacks of them piled haphazardly on nearly every surface.

Cass carefully disables the alarms on Jason's safe house, slipping in through the window because it's less secure, deliberately so. For all he speaks of putting the family behind him his window opens easily for emergencies. She'd known that when a blade had sliced into Spoiler's leg a block away and Oracle had directed them to this apartment - the closest point with the equipment needed to stitch it up - and afterwards Jason had tucked Steph into his own bed and heated her a bowl of take-out pho with concern evident in the tightness of his shoulders and in spite of his carefully neutral tone.

She scans through the stacks of books on the coffee table, sneaks into Jason's bedroom to browse his nightstand, slips through the apartment to pass over the full bookshelves. She's not surprised to find the Harry Potter series amongst them, Barbara had implied - and her research had confirmed - their status as a cultural touchstone.

She pulls a copy of _The Chamber of Secrets_ from the shelf - hard backed, unlike the bent and worn cover of the library paperback copy - and settles herself onto Jason's couch, easily seeking out the chapter she'd been reading last.

She's still reading when the front door opens, and Jason freezes in it. His body is tense, and Cass can see the way he's preparing to attack, the shift towards whatever weapon he has concealed on him, before he realises who has broken in and relaxes. Not entirely, and she feels a crawling sense of guilt at coming by unprompted, over something so small, when Jason is so defensive of his space.

"Cass," he says, locking the door behind him. Cass can't help but remember a time she was called timid, when her silence and her fear of her father had backed her into a corner. Jason is nearly as afraid as she was. "What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Wanted to talk to you." She lifts the book from her lap, fingers holding her place, and tips the cover in his direction.

"About Harry Potter?" There is still an unease, a stiffness in the way Jason walks, but each step he takes towards the couch lessens its strength until he drops next to her and pulls the book gently from her hands, eyes skimming over the page. "I'm not sure I'm your best option. Tim tends to be more of the nerdy Potter-y type."

Cass looks down at her hands, clenched around the air where the book sat. "You've read so much," she says, "Not this?" He certainly doesn't hold the book the same way Barbara had, and whilst the copies are thick-bound and beautiful, they aren't read to the verge of falling apart.

Jason laughs. "I don't think there are many people who haven't read these books."

"I haven't."

"Hmm." He shifts on the couch and stretches out, unwinding for the first time since he opened the door to find her in his living room. She takes a moment to appreciate the easing of his posture as he tips the book back toward her. "Where were you?" he asks.

She points to the paragraph he'd interrupted her in the midst of and waits as, in a steady voice, he begins to read, speaking the words with an easy fluency she lacks. His timbre is low and steady, but expressive too. She follows along as he brings far more meaning to the words, without the stumbling and faltering of her own reading. She listens and watches as the pages blur into chapters and barrel towards the end of the book.

Parents read to their children. It is something she has become aware of since her departure from the shadow of David Cain. It is as normal as her training sessions were, a way of teaching and of bonding. This, she thinks, is not about teaching. The way Jason focuses on the book is not meant to teach her anything, it is just meant to share.

She's still contemplating the sharing experience of reading aloud when Tim gets shot.

She isn't there when it happens, or in the aftermath when Batman sees Red Robin to safety, or when Spoiler disappears with an apology to Oracle. Batgirl is still needed and she trusts the rest of her family to take care of it.

Still, it's a relief at the end of the night when she slips quietly into Tim's room, the wound stitched and bandaged, and finds him sleeping soundly. Alfred had impressed upon each of them the importance of letting him rest.

She has no intention of disturbing him but she thinks back on Jason reading, and on his comments about Tim's likely fondness of the series. It's easy enough to pull the desk chair next to Tim's bed and - in the faint light of dawn's approach - start reading _The Prisoner of Azkaban_.

There are still points where she draws short, words she's sure she's mispronouncing, but she keeps her voice steady as the light behind her grows stronger and the story unfolds on her tongue.

She doesn't realise Tim's awake until she stumbles over a word and hears him mutter from the bed, "Feh-roo-luh." She tries out the word again and catches Tim smiling, even with his eyes closed. " _Ferula_ is a type of plant that was used to make splints and canes in Roman times. Sort of wishing we had a spell like that now." He makes to turn over and his eyes snap open, sharp and filled with pain.

Cass reaches out to help him onto his back again, attempting to soothe with gentle hands stroking through his hair. "You should be asleep," she says, because Alfred had been insistent and she doesn't want Tim's condition to worsen. She also doesn't want to get in trouble for being the cause of his waking.

"Don't leave," he says quietly, still again and breathing deeply. "It's my favourite. And I liked hearing you read."

She continues to stroke through his hair and scans over his body. She knows he's weakened at the moment, but she can see his strength as well - in the colour of his face, the set of his jaw. She nods. "No more moving."

"No more moving," he promises.

She returns to her chair, lifts the book again, and watches between sentences as Tim relaxes to something near sleep once more. It feels important, a different sort of heroics to Batgirl's, or even Harry's. She thinks maybe this is why Barbara gave her the series in the first place - not as a test, but an act of care in the sharing of a story.

Spoiler drops down beside her on the edge of a rooftop a couple of days later and even though her face is hidden by her cowl Cass can tell she's smiling from the way she bounces onto her toes and tips her head in Cass' direction. "Tim tells me you're reading Harry Potter," she says.

"Oh." Cass had expected good news, a mission gone well, Steph's pride at a job well done. She's Batgirl at the moment and thinking about her reading activities as Cassandra is far from her mind. "Yes. Barbara suggested."

The cowl is pulled away as Steph steps back from the edge, dropping heavily onto the asphalt of the rooftop and patting a spot next to her absent-mindedly; her focus is on her other hand, rummaging through the pockets of her Spoiler outfit. "Of course she did. It's a staple of our generation. Of course after this you might also have to track down _Twilight_ or oh, you should try _Goosebumps_ , but..."

She pauses in her spill of pop culture - something common enough that Cass is used to it even if she rarely understands it - and triumphantly lifts her hand, a bag of some sort of candy raised to the skies. Cass moves closer slowly, pulling her own mask from her face. "What?" she asks.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans," Steph explains, "I tracked down a box because you've got to try them." Cass wrinkles her nose, thinking back on the numerous occasions she's reached in the books when trying an Every Flavour Bean ends in disaster. Steph evidently picks up on her hesitance because she pops one in her mouth with a shrug. "They mostly just taste like sugar but I kind of think it's neat, to be able to pretend to be wizards once in a while."

"That's…" Cass struggles with the words, and fills the moment by taking one of the beans instead. It tastes a little of fruit but she's pleased to find Steph was honest about the predominance of sugar. "Pretending," she says, "it's something many people do?"

"Make believe that Harry Potter is real?" Steph asks, "Sure. On bad days I took this wand I'd made out of a chopstick and pretended to hex my dad. Of course he never suffered from bat-bogeys but... a girl can dream." Steph grabs a handful of beans with a grin, and Cass pretends to ignore the tightness in her expression, the tension that follows bringing up her father. She thinks maybe she would have the same urge to hex her own.

Steph chews slowly on the mixed sweets she's thrown into her mouth and after a second her grin fades to a wrinkling of disgust, a passing thoughtfulness. "Now that," she says, swallowing forcefully, "just tastes like the time I ate too much birthday cake and threw up. Maybe stick to one at a time."

Cass ignores her, because she wants to share in this moment, for Steph and for herself.

It's Dick who brings up the idea of watching the movies, after he finds her curled up in the manor and struggling through _Order of the Phoenix_ with a furrowed brow. "Honestly," he says conspiratorially, leaning against the back of her armchair and scanning the page she's on, "I never got through the books."

The revelation is not surprising. Cass has been to Dick's apartment, and where Jason and Barbara each have expansive collections of books - Jason's piled around without order, Barbara's neatly slotted into bookcases - his has only a few; old, thin books from his childhood, as well worn as that first copy of _The Philosopher's Stone_ Barbara had given her. Some of the titles are in French, she thinks, or other languages she has yet to attempt.

Besides, it makes sense for Dick, the most natural showman amongst them, to be drawn to the visuals of film.

She agrees then, to movie night at the manor, and soon after finds herself settled under a blanket fort, draped between the couches of the den and curled close to Dick; copious amounts of popcorn and frothing mugs of hot chocolate - complete with whipped cream and marshmallows - spread on trays before them.

Damian slips into the room shortly after they start the first movie. "Tt. I see Grayson has pulled you into his maddening idea of bonding," he says, but he sits easily in the space on Cass' other side anyway. She has seen this battle within him before, between what he wants and what he thinks he should want. It's easy to believe which side will win when Dick reaches an arm behind her and ruffles up his hair and he relaxes into the touch, only ducking away after a long moment.

"I seem to recall you _enjoying_ these films," Dick says, leaving his arm behind them both so it touches against their backs, the easy contact as important to him as the blanket fort and the films they're watching.

Cass slides the remains of her hot chocolate towards Damian. It's still warm, although the whipped cream and marshmallows have melted into a swirl of pink and white vanishing below the surface. She dutifully ignores the smile he turns his head to hide just as later she ignores the way he leans heavily against her, eyes drooping, as she in turn leans against Dick.

She makes it her task to finish the books before she watches the rest of the films, spurred on by Tim and Steph both insisting that to do otherwise would be tantamount to treason. She is certain in the dramatic way Steph gestures with her body that they wouldn't really mind, but that they want Cass to be included in this, and in their own words to be "better than Dick."

So she slips a copy of _Deathly Hallows_ into the Batcave whilst she waits for Duke, who's still trying to find his footing as Signal and who Barbara suggested she look out for. Another test, she thinks, but she doesn't mind it; Duke is her friend, and they work well together. Besides, a slow night allows her ample time to read before Duke steps out of the changing rooms.

His suit has been upgraded, likely a reflection of his time training with Batman, and he poses in mimicry of a statue in front of her, like the ones of the heroes standing in front of the Hall of Justice, although his shoulders are raised a little in his nervous tension. "Well," he says, "What do you think?"

She sets the book aside and stands. Her mind can't help but narrow in on possible weak spots, but she has learned to use it, and learned that this family minimises them when possible. Rounding to his front she taps the bat on his chest, black plating surrounded by yellow. She smiles. "We match." Her own bat is picked out in yellow in Batgirl tradition, although her suit is missing the purple that was such a part of Barbara's. Her smile grows even wider. "Hufflepuffs," she says.

Duke snorts. "Where were you when I was wearing red?" he asks. His shoulders drop though, suggesting he was genuinely concerned she might think badly of his new look.

Cass tips her head slightly and places her hand against his chest instead, laying it over his heart even though she can't feel the beat through the layers of the uniform. "Wouldn't change you here," she says. She likes to think she can judge character through people's actions but she worries for a second that she's genuinely made a social misstep here until Duke laughs.

"Guess I could be in worse company."

She smiles in response and nods towards the exit, making sure her book is safely stowed out of the way of anyone who may come back to the cave bleeding, because she's certain the library would charge extra if she returned a book with stains on it - even if she could pass them off as something other than blood - and briefly lets Oracle know they're heading out.

She lets Oracle know, as well, when she finishes the last book. They meet in the library, - Cassandra and Barbara, rather than Batgirl and Oracle - and Cass props her chin on the monitor Barbara is working at and asks, "Did you know?"

Barbara doesn't jolt, used to Cass' quiet passage through the library by this point, and smiles as she asks in response, "Know what?"

Cass tries to find the words to explain the past few weeks, the sharing of the story that has brought her closer, she hopes, to each of the people she considers family. She's not sure whether it will translate to a deeper trust in their vigilante duties, but she's also not sure it matters. "The third one is Tim's favourite," she says.

Barbara's smile grows wider and she says, "I did not." Cass thinks that if this is a test, that smile is a signal she passed.

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. idk what houses these characters would actually be in, as always comic characterisation changes wildly between writers and you could probably make a bunch of arguments for a bunch of sortings, so yeah, I'm not trying to make any bold claims here, just trying to have fun.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading :)


End file.
